


The Sneak

by JustaNerdStuckInQuarintine



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Bendy Doll, Gen, Ink Demon(s) (Bendy and the Ink Machine), POV Female Character, POV Lost One, POV Original Character, Striker clone, lost ones, searchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustaNerdStuckInQuarintine/pseuds/JustaNerdStuckInQuarintine
Summary: This is the story of my bendy OC and her encounters with the gang from "a different loop"
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Sneak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredKidLikesBatim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredKidLikesBatim/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A different loop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18629902) by [BoredKidLikesBatim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredKidLikesBatim/pseuds/BoredKidLikesBatim). 



> This is the story of my bendy OC and her encounters with the gang from "a different loop"

Bonnie did not know much of anything anymore. She could not recall the taste of apples, not the warmth of sunshine. She could not recall colors, like blue and red and green, either. All there was was the continuous dripping of ink, the creaking of floorboards, the constant screams and moans, and the disgusting tan coloring that dominated her vision. 

What she wouldn’t give to see the sky, just once more. To sit on a swing in the park, listening to the birds sing, feeling fresh air sail by her! 

No, she would never escape this hell. It was hilarious to her now that she had thought that she even had a life ahead of her before the whole disaster started.

Who would have guessed that her first job in the cartoonist industry she had worked so hard to get would have sent her plummeting into this abyss of darkness? 

It was weird to think that after thirty years of this place, she was still sixteen. This inky form of hers knew no age, as she was practically dead, yet still alive. 

It wasn’t exactly living, but she could get by. Well, she  _ was _ able to. But not anymore. Because back then, she had William.

William had been a fellow apprentice with her at the studio. Seventeen, with curly black hair and a charming smile. They had been mutual friends before Joey had invited them downstairs for that fateful, “friendly chat.”

They had woken up in different parts of the studio, each no longer in their human forms. Bonnie had become a being of pure ink, with one slim, noodle-like leg and the other grossly swollen and malformed. William, however, had been changed into the spider Edgar from the Bendy cartoons. Aperrantly, William’s laid-back attitude and southern accent had been the perfect candidate for an Edgar clone, so Mr. Drew had taken the teen’s soul, and stuffed it into the form of an ink monster. 

But when William’s form came out “wrong”, with an extra mouth, two twisted arms and one human eye, Joey had locked him up. Couldn’t have the press seeing that, now, could we?

When the studio had been abandoned and the whole place boiled into disarray, Bonnie had broken free of the testing tube she had been encased in, and had found William in a cage. They had stuck together like burrs after that, living in a hollow dug behind an Alice Angel poster, and protecting each other from the dangers of the outside world. 

Fifteen of the many years inside the studio had been that way. Just them. Together. Their relationship blossoms into something much deeper than friendship, and the slight kindling of hope of escape brewing in their hearts. 

But those flames had been snuffed when Willaim had disappeared. 

Bonnie and William had been sleeping inside the den, when the spider had gotten up. Bonnie had asked him what was up, and he said that he just heard someone crying for help, and was going to investigate. Bonnie could remember the conversation well.

“ _ Wait! Let me come with you _ !” she had gurgled, starting to get up. “No, no, you go back to sleep, darlin’.” William had said with a kind smile and a reassuring pat. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to check if some soul needs our help. If no one does, I’ll come scuttlin’ back faster than you can say ‘The Little Devil Darlin’.” “ _ Okay, but take the axe with you _ .” Bonnie had insisted with a pout, taking his hand in hers. “ _ Don’t want you getting into a sticky situation out there. _ ” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me.” William snorted, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sneakier than a spider.” “ _ You  _ are _ a spider.”  _ Bonnie pointed out teasingly in a spluttering of ink. 

“Ha! Ya got me there. But my point still stands.” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t get your ink in a twist. See ya soon.” 

And he had vanished behind the Alice Poster. He never came back. 

Day after day Bonnie had run around the studio, frantically crying out his name, not caring about how the noise she was making would draw the ink demon in. It had been weeks before she had finally stopped to rest, crying and sobbing in despair. Any hope she had left was gone. Lost in the ink just like her body.

  
  


Fifteen years later, she was now officially one of the lost ones. Any spark of humanity left in her inky tomb had been stamped out a long time ago. She resided in the hollow all alone, with only an Alice Angel doll to keep her company. Constantly locked into an upright, fetal position, arms trapping the doll to her chest like a baby, rocking back and forth without end, she stared listlessly into space with those sad, glowing eyes. 

She hadn’t moved since the day she had finally stopped crying. Like her lost comrades, there seemed to be no recognition or awareness in them at all. No way to distinguish happy from sad or remember. Just a sad, hollow, empty husk of a former person. 

Occasionally a monster would stalk past her home, including the ink demon themself, but she never showed any sign of awareness of their presence. Not even a glance sideways. Who cared anymore? She couldn’t die. But, oh, what she wouldn’t give for the sweet release of death! It would be so beautiful! So soft. So comforting. All pain: gone!

But Mr Drew had other plans, didn’t he? Whenever thoughts of him entered the creature’s head, she would dissolve into tears; the only time she ever moved anymore. That evil son of a *****. What she wouldn’t give to smash him into a million pieces and then set him on fire. This whole operation was his idea. All of this  _ death _ came from  _ that  _ psychopath. 

But eventually the tears would smooth back into blank stares and unintelligible gurgles. That’s how it was. For a LONG time.

But then, something changed. She heard a voice. An actual  _ voice _ , speaking  _ words _ .

For the first time in fifteen years, she raised her head.

  
  
  


“... **It wasn’t only Joey who experimented with ink...** ”  Bonnie whimpered, her fingers crushing the doll in her grasp. Voices. Voices. Voices.  _ Not alone I want I need voices to feel to safety to happy not sad.  _ She thought. She had no name for this thing in her heart that she felt, but we do. What that unnamed feeling she was experiencing was, was hope. 

With a sloshing, ripping, dribbling sound, she got up from her spot on the floor, ink detaching from the paper beneath her and unsticking from her other limbs wetly. She stood up shakily, leaning against the tunnel walls for support. Her legs screamed in pain from unuse, but she pressed on, for she was filled with  **_determination_ ** **.**

Her dripping fingers brushed the poster in front of her, and she pushed it aside, light reaching her eyes for the first time in a long time. Toppling out, she landed on her rump in a small splash of ink. Struggling upright again, she limped on down towards the sounds of voices, desperate for the presence of another sentient being.

The sounds sounded like they were coming from a door down the hall! She pushed on, occasionally falling forwards and having to crawl along on hands and knees. 

Finally, finally, she reached the door. She reached for the handle with excitement, but suddenly stopped short. Did she really want to do this? What if they thought that she was a monster? She could barely talk, let alone make friends. 

She slid to the floor, eyeing the door crack with a look of forlornness. “... **Keep telling yourself all those lies if you want until you hopefully choke on them. Maybe then you'll finally stop being so annoying with your pitiful behavior. Nothing you do will change how things are now. This is what has become of her. This is what your decisions turned her into. A twisted reflection of what she once was. And it's all thanks to you, sweetheart. Thanks to you and Joey** **.** ” They sounded mean, too. 

With a gulping sound, she curled up by the door. She would have to think about this. 

For about an hour, she listened to their conversations, eyes closed. Maybe if she slipped in there unnoticed...no, that would make them angry. She could...knock? Was that the polite thing to do? Hmm, maybe this wasn’t the best idea..

“... **we all know this ink form doesn’t come with genitals.** ” There was a shout of laughter. LAUGHTER! SHE LOVED LAUGHTER! Before the start of the ink fiasco, she was known for being the most giggly person around! 

Her face broke into a small smile, that gradually grew larger and larger, and a small huff of air broke through her dripping lips. No. She needed to do this! Here’s an idea. She would wait for them to come out of the door, and they would find her!

Satisfied with her plan, she blinked happily at the door handle, waiting for the chance to finally have a friend. 


End file.
